NOTE TO CONTRIBUTORS: Below is the story in full as it has developed so far. It includes the name of the contributors and the state in which they live. We recommend you read it before you contribute.
My sister was always the oddball of our family. Although we were quintuplets, the other four were all boys and I killed her thinking that I could get away with it because there would be so much matching DNA. I made my three brothers think that there was someone else after all of us and our best solution was to scatter to all corners of the country. My trip from the other Las Vegas, the one in New Mexico, would be easier than my siblings’ since I had relieved my sister of her financial assets before sending her to the hell she deserved. [Jim Goodman, New Mexico, May 23, 2017]
While I was confident that my actions were well-founded, visions of the act hung over my head like the Sword of Damocles. I awoke from a restless repose sweating from every pore in my body. Recalling that today was the day I was to meet my ex only added to my anxiety. [Don Goodman, Ohio, May 24, 2017] Some might wonder how anyone could kill their own sibling, but if you knew her, you’d wonder why I didn’t do it sooner. Then you’d thank me for it. From the beginning, we all knew she wasn’t right and even though we pretended not to notice, at some point we knew something would have to be done. [Burt Walker, Kentucky, May 24, 2017]
By now, you’re probably wondering more about how she didn’t get to finish her bucket list, rather than why it happened in the first place. After convincing her that I needed a loan for a business start-up that morning, I took her out to the building site. That’s where she took a swan-dive off the scaffolding into a pit of wet concrete the brothers had poured about a half hour earlier, for one of the foundation pillars. [Brian Lauer, Kentucky, May 24, 2017]
See, I had a plan for her money. It was going to be the seed capital I needed to fund my plans. That in turn was going to give me enough money to really disappear. I just hadn’t decided on where I was going yet. Besides, I still had other siblings to milk– er… invite hunting… er… build… dammit! You know what I mean. They had to go, and I had work to do. [Boyd Craven, Michigan, May 26, 2017]
Thailand was at the top of my list of countries in which to start over. Bangkok, specifically. A city known to be American friendly and full of accommodating women. Women who would solve my insatiable need for attention. The problem was going to be the business plan. Unless I wanted to get involved in the red light district, choosing a profitable venture would be tricky. I decided to call my Uncle Yuri. A man with Russian blood coursing thru his veins. A man who always had a plan. [Jay Falconer, Arizona, May 27, 2017]
Yuri arrived late as usual at Ming’s Pleasure Palace sporting a limp and a scowl. He sat down hard on the well worn chair opposite mine, and didn’t say a word.
“Who are we killing now, you cheap bastard?” he finally huffed. I guess he was still a little pissed that I had shot him, when he threatened to go to the Thai police for not paying him. I never answered, because just then my eldest brother, the next one I’d fitted for concrete shoes, burst through Ming’s doorway. He had a loaded .38 pointed right at me. [ML Banner, Arizona, May 27, 2017] “Aaaaahgh!” a disembodied voice yelled, causing everyone to look around before going back to what they were doing half a second before. It messed with their conception of the world, see? And wouldn’t that be something: the conception of the world. Who’s on top, that’s what I wanna know. [John L. Monk, Virginia, May 27, 2017]
It was, at times like this, that I often found myself questioning my mother’s desire for me to pursue this line of work. Why? What had she hoped to gain from it all. I had loved the jazz guitar and she felt it would lead only to heartbreak and poverty. At times like this I felt… she might have been wrong. [Nick Cole, California, May 28, 2017] I looked down the barrel of that .38 and smiled.
“What do you think you’re going to do with that, Uncle?”
“I’m still pissed that you shot me.”
“So we mean business then?” I said.
“Ok, then let’s get to work.”[Michael Bunker, Texas, May 29, 2017]
“Stop ignoring me, Joey!” my older brother said. “I swear I’ll shoot you dead right now.”
“How was the flight?” I asked. “Hey, is that my gun?”
My older brother ratcheted back the hammer on the stumpy thirty-eight. Huh. Didn’t that go into the cement with the Satan I called my sister?
I stared at it, trying to remember. Joey’s hand began to shake. The bar’s half-drunk patrons leered at us in the waning light.
I shrugged, and stood. “Come with us or don’t, Jim. I don’t care. Yuri?” As I walked away, I heard the hammer lower back down and a string of inaudible curses fall from my older brother’s mouth. He would tell me how he got out of the cement shoes later. He always did. [Matt Herron, Texas, May 31, 2017]
With Joey and Jimmy in Thailand and Jackie securely in her grave, brothers Jerry and Johnny made their way in opposite directions. Jerry went southeast to Louisiana. “Can I order me some crawfish etoufee and a Bud?” he said to the waitress in Arcadia Parish.
“Boy, you sure look like a guy named Johnny I picked up hitchhiking in Utah,” she answered.
“That’s my b–…er…body double,” Jerry said. “What were you doing in Utah?”
“I’ve got some Mormon relatives there. When I found out I couldn’t drink, I started driving eastbound.” [Jim Goodman, New Mexico, May 31, 2017]
She seemed like a talkative type, and even though he wasn’t in the mood for small talk, Jerry was considering using one of his signature moves. Maybe a good roll in the hay would allow him to relax a little. But now it looks like Johnny was being careless and leaving a trail that need not be discovered and that might not be the best idea right now, considering the circumstances.
“Maybe you should have stayed in Utah. Good people there ya know.”
“Not my style” she said, casting him a glance that practically shouted she was open to more than small talk. “Way too straight laced for me.”
“What’s your name sweetheart?”
“Laurie. What’s yours darling?” she replied in that rich, yet somehow enticing twang found only in Cajun territory.[Burt Walker, Kentucky, May 31, 2017]